


Science Bitch Goes Bonkers

by FirstOfAllImSorry



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: But I know a lot of you are sinners so, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Stockholm Syndrome, look this is dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstOfAllImSorry/pseuds/FirstOfAllImSorry
Summary: Science Bitch loses his position and faith in humanity. If everyone else is throwing morality out the window and indulging unethical vices, well.. He deserves some fun too, right?
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Scientist (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it, sickos ;)

“Fuckin’ Frank leaving me to walk home... Probably won’t even be enough cat food left when I get back...” Charlie grumbled, pulling his soaked jacket tighter around himself. He still had, like, another thousand blocks left, and he couldn’t feel his toes anymore. The rain had completely soaked through his clothes and his socks squelched every time he took a step and it was, like, really cold, and he was shaking and-

“Charlie? Charlie Kelly? Is that you?”

He hadn’t even noticed the car pulling up next to him. The driver had to shout over the rain. “Ah, I thought that was you!” The driver waved him over, smiling.

Charlie hesitated, his mind screaming Stranger Danger. But, whoever it was, they knew his name, right? So, not a stranger? He walked over to the driver side window and peered in.

“what?” The inside of the car was clean and smelled like leather. The soft blue lights of the dashboard glowed pleasantly in the darkness, illuminating the driver’s face. The heat was blasting, warming Charlie’s frozen nose. He stepped closer, warming himself up as much as he could.

The man smiled sheepishly, and continued in a British accent, “Well, I-I was wondering if you might want a ride home, Charlie. I know you must dislike me, but-“

“We got a beef?”

The man blinked, “We met at the college? You participated in a psychological study?”

Charlie gave him a blank look.

The man sighed. “I’m the, erm, ‘Science Bitch’?”

“OH!” Realization spread across Charlie’s face. “You were that asshole who made me think I didn’t like Police Academy!”

“Yes, well, I’ve thought a lot about that experiment, and I wanted to offer my apologies. We treated you unfairly. Hence,” he chuckled nervously, “the offer of a ride.”

Charlie shifted from foot to foot, “So.. you feel bad you were mean to me, so you’re gonna drive me home? To make you feel less bad?”

Science Bitch nodded, smiling kindly, “That’s exactly right, Charlie.”

‘That’s right, Charlie.’ Huh, he didn’t think he’d ever heard those words in his life. “OK.” He jogged over to the other side of the car and climbed into the passenger seat. “But if you say one bad thing about Police Academy I’m jumping out, man.”

“Alright, Charlie.” The car started moving forward, humming pleasantly.

“It’s a good movie.”

“I know, Charlie.”

They rode in silence for several minutes, Charlie pressing his chilled fingers against the heating vents and basking in the immaculate interior of the car that had probably cost more than his mom’s house. Science Bitch glanced over at him, “Still cold?”

Charlie shrugged.

“Perhaps you’d like something warm to drink? I have a thermos of hot chocolate in my messenger bag in the back seat. If you don’t mind drinking after me.”

Charlie scoffed, turning to rifle through an expensive-looking leather bag on the floor behind their seats. All that was in it was a few loose papers, a laptop case, and the aforementioned thermos. It was nearly full, and warm in his hands. “Nah man, I’ve been vaccinated for every disease in the book.” Sitting back in his seat, Charlie unscrewed the lid and took a long drink. “Shit, that’s good stuff!” The drink was nearly burn-your-tongue hot and super thick, like melted ice cream. Another long swig, then he held it out to Science Bitch.

He shook his head, “Not while I’m driving, Charlie. You enjoy it.”

Not needing to be told twice, Charlie kept near-chugging the stuff. He probably liked it so much because he was hungry as shit, and this tasted like it was made with real milk and everything. It warmed his belly like a home-cooked meal. He drank it all within a few minutes. Science Bitch gave him a sidelong glance.

Charlie wiped his mouth, “Sorry, uh, I maybe might’ve drank all of-“ he cut himself off with a large belch.

Science Bitch bitch patted his leg, making Charlie stiffen in surprise, “it’s quite alright, Charlie. You’re probably hungry. I can make myself some when we get home.”

Charlie nodded and slumped back into the chair. “Wait, you mean when you get home?”

“Hmm?”

“You said when we get home, but.. We don’t live together, dude.”

“Ah, my apologies. Slip of the tongue.”

More silence. Charlie watched the drops of rain slide down the window, pretending they were racing and trying to guess which one would win. Science Bitch drove way slower than Denis, and he hadn’t yelled or swerved once. It was so warm in the car, and the pattering of rain on the roof was so much more relaxing than howling cats... He opened his eyes— when had he shut them?— a thought occurring to him.

“Heyyyy...” he paused and licked his lips. His tongue felt heavy, “You... uh... y’know... wer-uh-live?”

A pause. “...yes, Charlie. Close your eyes.”

Something was wrong. He’d taken enough drugs in his life to know what this felt like. Charlie tried to sit up and glare at Science Bitch, but he was too tired and his limbs were all tingly. “Whazzz... goin’....”

“Shh,”

A hand carding through his hair. Charlie tried to flinch away, but only managed to furrow his brow and whimper a bit.

“Don’t be frightened, Charlie. This’ll be good for you, I promise. Just sleep now. That’s it...”

Science Bitch kept talking as Charlie slipped into velvet darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was royally fucked up long before he entered it, and it will continue to be royally fucked up long after he’s gone. The professor —‘former professor,’ he reminded himself bitterly— knocked back another tumbler of his expensive scotch like it was dirt-cheap whiskey. Fuck, nothing mattered, did it? He had gotten this bottle as a congratulatory gift after receiving one of his may awards, he didn’t even remember which one anymore. The academic awards and plaques and trophies and medals and certificates that weren’t enough to keep him from being laid off. The football coach had gotten a raise this year. Swaying a bit, he poured another glass and drank it down. He had wanted to save the world. To fight climate change and injustice and help people. But he was less important than the damned football stadium sprinklers. And now he couldn’t do any of that. The world was being torn apart by terrible people, and there was no one to stop them. No God to punish them when they died. No God to reward him for his efforts. 

No God to punish him, either.

‘If you can’t beat them...’

He poured the rest of the scotch down the drain. He had work to do.

  
  


It was too easy, honestly. Too easy to mix together a sampler platter of various drugs using his expertise and a few stolen pieces of lab equipment. Too easy to sell his wares to disreputable characters, who would sell them to even less reputable characters. Too easy to avoid the cops, who didn’t look twice at the polite British man smiling sheepishly at them as he moseyed by their obvious stakeout car, his suit jacket packed with pharmaceuticals. Fuck, it was all too easy.

Less than a year after his termination, he lived a comfortable life in his new apartment and tax-free income. He even had a safe-house on the outskirts of Philly bought under a fake identity and stocked with canned food and cash. Getting laid off was the best thing that ever happened to him.

The only problem was boredom. As much as he enjoyed his new job, he had no true passion for it. Gathering materials, making the drugs, and dispensing them took less than thirty hours a week, a far cry from his eighty-plus when he was researching for the college. He spent more and more time wallowing in bitter self pity, reading and rereading the notes on his old experiments. What he really loved was psychology. The human brain. Human behavior! The thrill of looking inside someone’s mind without having to physically dig into their brain. Still, any experiment or research he did would be useless, unable to be peer-reviewed or published, not to mention completely unethical.

More unethical than supplying addicts with drugs? He was no longer associated with circles that were concerned with ethics, so why should he be?

‘If you can’t beat them...’

A small, objective part of his brain whispered ‘deflection,’ hissed that he was throwing himself into this new project to get away from his existential crisis. But, It wasn’t enough to stop him finding the address in the file marked Kelly, Charlie, and driving there. If there were ever a subject who garnered additional study, it was this man. There was no harm in watching. There was no harm in revisiting an old test subject to satisfy his curiosity. He wasn’t hurting anyone by driving by that apartment building or getting his coffee across the street from the bar where the subject worked. The subject seemed to be in decent health and spirits, surprisingly.

A small, objective part of his brain whispered ‘stalker,’ hissed that this wasn’t normal or healthy. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from learning the subject’s routine, if you could call it that, and taking a picture or two. For his notes. Mr. Kelly was an interesting study indeed, and required more and more of his attention. The man seemed to retain an aura of innocence and enthusiasm despite his frankly desperate situation. He lived in filth, regularly ingested non-food items, and was both mentally and physically abused by the people around him. Still, he managed to have a positive outlook on life. The naïveté was.. endearing. They really didn’t know what they had, did they? His friends? Charlie was something special, and no one appreciated it. No one but him. Remaining in this toxic environment was no doubt detrimental to Charlie’s physical and mental health.

A small, objective part of his brain whispered ‘kidnapper,’ hissed that this was wrong. Wrong in so many ways. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from setting up the guest bedroom or mixing up a special cocktail of sedatives for his moment. Charlie could be violent if he needed to be, and the ex-professor wasn’t taking any chances. He’d eventually learn to love his new life, but he’d fight it at first.

The small, objective part of his brain was silenced by his pounding heart when he finally got the opportunity he’d been waiting for. It just fell into his lap like a gift! Charlie was walking home all alone after being left at a strip club by his roommate. It was pouring rain and less than forty degrees outside. Digging into the glove compartment, he readied the syringe, then paused. He only had one shot at this, and if Charlie managed to overpower him... He frowned. Getting him into the car would be easy, but he doubted he’d be able to lean over the divider and inject him before Charlie could get out. Wait, didn’t he pack a...? Yes! Fumbling with what was meant to be his treat for this evening’s stakeout, he pushed the contents of the syringe into the thermos and swirled the liquid around before screwing the lid back on and putting it back into his bag. He cranked the heat to full blast and pulled over next to Charlie. Oh, everything had worked out splendidly!

  
  
  


“This’ll be good for you, I promise. Just sleep now. That’s it...” He brushed damp hair out of Charlie’s eyes gently, murmuring assurances. His skin was softer than he would have thought, and still slightly cool to the touch. The Scientist tutted. Poor thing, left alone in the cold. Well, he wouldn’t let that happen again. Charlie began to snore softly, and the scientist smiled. “There’s a good boy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer-bitch is back, baby! :D Thank you all for your comments, they really got me off my butt. And sorry for the long delay. Shit kinda hit the fan for me both in my personal life and in the world with the whole Corona thing and what not. I hope you guys are staying safe. I’m working on the next chapter, but this one was ready so I figured I’d pop it up here.   
> Thank you again for your comments, they all always really brighten my day and encourage me :)

Eight Months Ago:

Nikolas Bailey, who had just introduced himself, smacked his gum and grinned amicably at the professor, reclining lazily on his chair with one foot perched disrespectfully on the antique wooden desk he sat behind. The whole room smelled like classic pink bubble-gum, reminding the scientist of his days in primary school. It was an unnerving dissonance to the business he was conducting, to the posh high rise office in the city he had oh-so-politely been driven to without warning by men with guns in their jackets and steel in their eyes. Two of these frighteningly quiet and serious men, one behind Bailey and one near the door, watched the professor with stony expressions.

“What’s your name, bud?” Bailey had a drawling cowboy accent and a California surfer look about him: young, tan, blonde, fit, and very carefree. He wore an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt over an old-looking AC/DC T-shirt and fashionably ripped jeans.

The scientist told him his name.

Bailey burst into loud, obnoxious laughter, his mouth opened so wide the scientist could see the tooth indents on his current piece of gum, which he balanced skillfully on the tip of his tongue. The scientist couldn’t help hoping he’d choke on it.

Wiping an imaginary tear from his eye, Bailey cooed patronizingly “Oh, what a sweetie! Ain’t he a sweetie?” He nudged the nearest goon with an elbow and got no reaction. Unfazed, he turned to the scientist, “Not your REAL name, buddy! Your STREET name.” The scientist glimpsed something predatory and cruel in his eyes when he added, more quietly and still smiling, “We already knew your real name.”

Scientist swallowed, “I-I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Well, you can’t use your legal name in our kind ‘a business,” Bailey explained cheerily, “you need a- uh-uh- what is it? A fake name? But there’s a word for it-“

“An alias?”

Bailey snapped and pointed at him. “That’s it! An alias! I knew you were smart!” He chuckled and blew a bubble with his gum and let it pop, holding eye contact with the professor. “Not smart enough to stay out of our territory, though. What’s with that?” The air went out of the room. That spark of maliciousness flared again in Bailey’s mask of a smile.

Silence. No one moved. Scientist’s stomach dropped. Bailey even stopped his incessant chewing. You could hear a pin drop in the room. For one beat. Two beats. Three b-

“But I’m not an unreasonable fella!” Bailey clapped his hands, making the professor jump. The threatening gleam in Bailey’s eyes dissipated like smoke, and he relaxed once again to his energetic frat boy persona. “And let me tell you,” he continued cheerily, “I, and more importantly my boss, love your product! So high grade, so consistent, so safe, but still so... so...” he kissed his fingers like a chef. “I wanna help you sell it to more, and richer, clients. What’dya’say?”

The scientist opened his mouth.

“Before you answer,” Bailey’s smiled turned hideously aggressive, “I always get what I want, one way or another.” The steely man behind him gave the professor an expectant look and clenched his fists.

‘if you can’t beat them...‘ The scientist closed his mouth and adjusted his answer accordingly before reopening it.

All things considered, he was given a generous employment package with a sign-on bonus of a hundred-thousand dollars and the privilege of leaving the office building with two functioning eyes. The money was to buy equipment, a safe house filled with supplies, and the silence of anyone from whom he bought those things. The ingredients he needed would be provided to him, exchanged at a meet-up point where he would hand off his quota. He would receive a percentage of profit made by selling his product, which he would sell exclusively to Mr. Bailey and his associates. It was an offer he couldn’t refuse, much to Bailey’s boyish glee.

After shaking hands, Bailey walked him to the waiting town car, his arm slung chummingly over the scientists shoulder. “Glad you made the right choice, buddy!” Bailey babbled energetically as they walked, “We’re gonna make a lot ‘a money together. Dream team!” He extended his free arm in the air as though gesturing to an imaginary billboard and moved his arm slightly leftward with every word, miming reading it, “‘Cornering the high-end recreational pharmaceutical market: Nikolas Bailey and his good pal-‘“ Bailey waited, nodding encouragingly at the scientist.

“Erm- uhm how about... erm... Friedrich.... ummmm... Mackie...?”

Bailey laughed and pulled the scientist closer, “Haha! Friedrich Mackie! I love it! What a name! Lemme tell’ya, we both play our cards right, this’ll be the start of a beautiful friendship!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alias he chooses is a combination of Friedrich Nietzshe and J.L. Mackie, two philosophers who deal with morality and in particular that morality is a flawed idea and yada yada. I’m probably horribly misinterpreting their work (because I basically googled moral nihilism and picked the first two names I saw) but I think it fits Science Bitch’s character that he’d cherry-pick philosophical ideas to fit his new lifestyle and justify it to himself. Idk  
> Thank you for reading, and don’t worry: Charlie’s in the next chapter :)

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a bad person, but you read it, so.. Comment if you want it finished. I need validation. Stay thirsty, my friends.


End file.
